The Empire Strikes Barack

‘Nuff said.

Inspiration in the 24th Century

Fourplay

Little David tagged me with the latest meme making its rounds in the gay blogosphere, so here goes nothin’:

Four jobs I have had in my life

dishwasher
telemarketer
messenger
paralegal (and still am. I think this is my life’s calling.)

Four movies I could watch over and over

All About Eve
Witness for the Prosecution (the one with Marlene Dietrich and Charles Laughton)
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Big Night

Four places I have lived

Manila, the Philippines
Wyreka, California
Jersey City, New Jersey
Bayonne, New Jersey

Four TV shows that I watch*

*since I don’t watch TV, this is going to be difficult. thank god for iTunes and Youtube though.

Project Runway
Top Chef
Classic Star Trek
Star Trek: The Next Generation

Four places that I have visited

San Francisco
Tokyo
Honolulu
Cape Cod (but not Provincetown….not yet, anyway)

Four people who e-mail me regularly

Richard
Derek
Gautam
Donovan

Four favorite foods

Good barbecue

Lobster roll at Tides

Pasta, preferably homemade

Brussel sprouts

Four places I would like to be right now

San Francisco (if only I could move there)
London
Paris
Lyon

Four things I’m looking forward to this year

Summer
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Quantum of Solace
GBNYC5

Four people who should post about four things

I’ll refrain from tagging people, unless they want to participate.

“Patience”, Part 11

In its place was a humid, reeking swamp, and the pitch black darkness of a night with no stars or moon. He could hear the thrumming, rolling and receding sounds of the distant surf and the shrill shrieks of birds calling to each other above the tangled canopy. There were crickets and crabs and animals such as he hadn’t ever glimpsed before, and all of them moved like death gray silhouettes through an impenetrably dense fog.

There was an Argonian male crouched by a pool of discolored water, holding a spear in one scaly hand. He was hunting.

Memories came flooding back to him so swiftly that he jolted out of that blissful place between wakefulness and sleep. Only then did he realize that he couldn’t move. His thin wrists were bound, as were his ankles. Something leathery was thrust into his mouth to keep him from crying out. His head was bent back at an awkward angle. Panic filled him, and he thrashed violently on the filthy floor of the swamp. His movements startled the lizard man. The creature turned his head sharply in ‘Rilo’s direction, then rushed over to him in equal panic to try and still him.

“Stop!” he pleaded in a reptilian, hissing voice, catching the back of ‘Rilo’s head before he gashed it open on a jagged rock. “Stop, you must stop, you must stop!”

‘Rilo just uttered as much of a scream as he could through his leather bindings, twisting in terror to get his gray, bared throat out of range of his captor’s intimidating, pronged fangs. He couldn’t help it—he started crying, and that caused the Argonian to leap back and begin pacing, worrying his nails with his teeth.

“I cannot do this, I cannot do this, it won’t stop crying, Honor-That-She-Seeks never told me that they cried, why does it cry, why does it cry, why does it—”

‘Rilo tilted his head at just the right angle to get the leather gag out of his mouth. He gasped loudly, sucked in a breath of air that tasted of the swamp, then screamed out:

“Gold Man, help me!”

The Argonian took a staggered step, quivered, then knelt beside ‘Rilo with a confused expression on his face. ‘Rilo shied away from him, shaking in fright and praying for his life. “Here…” the creature began shakily, reaching out for the bindings on ‘Rilo’s wrists. “Here, now…no more screams, and I take them off, yes?” He looked hopeful. “Yes?”

“Why did you take me!” ‘Rilo shouted back, mindless of the request. He thought back to Shae, floating away from him down the Meros. He flinched. Tears stung his eyes. Stupid Shae… stupid…

“Because I must!” the creature insisted, his dismay evident. Again, he reached for the bindings, and without hesitation, ‘Rilo moved away. “I must take you, I must, Vermillio does not understand—”

“Don’t talk about my father!” the boy shouted back in outrage. His fists clenched. “You don’t know anything about my papa!”

“No, sir, no!” the Argonian persisted, and this time when he reached for ‘Rilo’s wrists, he grasped them firmly, and the boy could not twist away. His expression was pleading. “Silent-Shadow does not speak of Vermillio’s papa—Silent-Shadow speaks of you! You do not understand!”

‘Rilo’s expression was blank and without comprehension. He stared up at the scaled, reptilian face, and felt nothing but terrified wonder, and the vain wish to reach out and strike his captor with something sharp. Then, still crying silent tears, he begged, weeping, “What don’t I understand?”

Silent-Shadow took a steadying breath and removed his short sword from his hip; it was crusted with something, and ‘Rilo grew sick with nausea as he recognized it. The Argonian brought the blade to the bindings on ‘Rilo’s wrists and begin to saw through, speaking shakily as he did so. “You must go to Honor-That-She-Seeks, and he will explain. Silent-Shadow cannot explain. Silent-Shadow does not know, but he understands.”

(to be continued)

* * *

(This fanfic is a work in progress and is based on source material found in the Elder Scrolls games.)

Click here to view Part 1.

The Cream of the Crop

I run three weekly online D&D games on OpenRPG. This is an excerpt from a Forgotten Realms campaign that occurred about a year or so ago. I still get a kick whenever I read the log. Enjoy.

* * *

** (1) Vadania takes her sword and cuts a deep gash in the belly of the Hobgoblin after removing the armor and morning star **
** (3) Amreth steps across the intersection, and graps the handle of the north door, cracking it open to get a look inside. **
** (29) Joryn glances at the bird calls. “Those aren’t exactly common around here, I’d wager. Keep ‘em down.” **
** (20) Ruth carefully creeps through the door into the next room to avoid the soon-to-be-waking ape. She waits next to the wall near the door and lets those stealthier handle recon. **
** (3) Amreth frowns down at Fildin, whispering, “Got one down the hall there, sweeping the floor. I’ll see what I can do, his back’s to me,” he says, opening the door just enough to slip through. **
** (1) Vadania finishes up and drags the armor though the door and closes it almost all the way, leaving a small crack for her to look through **
** ( Olbernath quietly speaks, “If we come accross a live hobgoblin, I may be able to charm him. It might get us some useful information, assuming he can speak the common tongue.” **
** (6) Fildin nods to Amreth as he takes off again, and keeps everyone else quiet as they come through the door. **
** (3) Amreth slips through, and, back to the wall, he creeps along behind the hobgoblin, trying to get close enough without alerting him. **
(6) Fildin: *whispers* “Well, I think it’s too late for that ne Amreth just saw, but there is at least one in this room,” he says as he points to the double doors.
** Grinkle mutters to himself. **
(19) Grinkle: “Me hab to sweep dis flor. Hmph. Grrr.”
** (3) Amreth swallows hard as the bastards turns around, and holds for a moment, cursing himself for not acting instead of telling the hin first. **
** Grinkle looks up and sneezes, then continues sweeping. “Dis no fun.” **
(19) Grinkle: “Me neber hab time to play hob gamez. Grumble grumble.”
** Grinkle looks up and sneezes again, and then drops the broom, saying “HAY! I GIB UP!” **
(19) Grinkle: “Dun hurtz me!” (throws up his hands and quivers as he looks at Amreth)
** Grinkle covers his face with his hands, raising a finger to peek out, cringing. **
** ( Olbernath mutters to himself, “Hmph… this would be a waste of an enchantment…” **
** Grinkle sees Amreth charging and drops to the floor, fainting. **
** (3) Amreth blinks once, then motions the hobgoblin close, flashing one of his blade, whispering, “Don’t want to kill you, mate. But I will have if you don’t come here,” he says, sticking a pair of fingers into a pouch and producing a single gold coin, “No tricks, I’ll give you this if you give me a word or.. Nevermind.” **
** (3) Amreth shrugs to himself, and walks over to the fainted hobgoblin, and thinks a moment, “Now why’d you have to do and do that?” **
** (3) Amreth slips his sword away, and draws his last dager, cutting free a strip of leather from his armor to gag him, before trying to drag his sorry ass back the way he came, to the others, and the pit where he’s of a mind to dump him. **
** Grinkle wakes up after being dragged roughly through the door and gags. “Mmmph!” **
** (29) Joryn holds a hammer threateningly. “Quiet!” he hisses at the bound hobgoblin. **
(19) DM: Amreth comes back the way he came, dragging a hobgoblin that’s been gagged with a strip of leather. The hobgoblin is vainly trying to talk.
(19) Grinkle: “Mmmph! Grak! Mppmph!”
** (3) Amreth drags him into the beast’s pen and gently props him against the wall, pointing a finger at his nose, “Now you be quiet, I don’t want to hurt you.” **
** (6) Fildin looks from Amreth to Olbernath. “Then again….” **
** Grinkle sighs. **
** ( Olbernath arches an eyebrow. **
** (3) Amreth picks out the coin again, and places it in the hobgoblin’s hand, before drawing a dagger and leveling it at his adam’s apple, “Gonna take that out of your mouth, and if you yell, this here goes through your throat, understand?” **
(19) Grinkle: “Plsssmph dmpph hmmmph mpmmmph!”
** (6) Fildin follows Amreth back into the pit room to see what the prisoner has to say. **
(3) Amreth: “Well, I’ll take that as an agreement,” and with that, he pulls the gag, “Now you be quiet, except to tell us how many of your kin are here. How many?”
(19) Grinkle: “Lotz. Nub hurtz me!”
(29) Joryn: “Speak quietly, too!” He glares at the prisoner, glancing around he room for any threats.
(3) Amreth: “Not gonna hurt you, I’m gonna let you go. We’re going to let you go. Show me how many are here, on your fingers.”
** Grinkle whines, “Okay.” **
** ( Olbernath smirks, “You really grabbed the cream o’ the crop.” **
** Grinkle holds up both hands. **
** (1) Hile walks up with Vadania on his back **
** (3) Amreth waits a moment, wondering if that’s the whole count he’s going to give. **
** Grinkle holds up nine more fingers. **
(3) Amreth: “Nineteen, huh.”
(19) Grinkle: “Lotz.” (nodding)
(6) Fildin: “That will keep us busy…” Fildin mutters.
** ( Olbernath looks dubious of Grinkle’s counting ability. **
(3) Amreth: “Hope that’s accurate, for your sake. So, what’s your name?”
(19) Grinkle: “Big cheez in da bed place.”
(19) Grinkle: “Him Julla.”
(19) Grinkle: “Me Grinkle.”
(1) Vadania: “You complain about me trying to save an animal and you are going to let one of them go free?”
(3) Amreth: “Julla, that’s good. Alright, Grinkle, you see this?” he asks, picking another lion out of his pouch, “This is yours, too. No more rat piss ale for Grinkle.”
** (20) Ruth keeps watch outside the interrogation, listening quietly by the door. **
(3) Amreth: “He’s of no threat to us, the beast was.”
(19) Grinkle: “Okay.”
** Grinkle stares at the lion like a small child. **
** (3) Amreth places that coin, too, in Grinkle’s hand, “Anyone got some rope?” **
** (1) Vadania snorts but says nothing **
** (6) Fildin shakes his head no. **
(19) Grinkle: “Yub tak me wid yub?”
(3) Amreth: “Well, cut that leather armor up, will you, and tie this sucker up?” he tries to plug Grinkle’s mouth with the gag again, “Don’t worry, big fella.”
(19) Grinkle: “Smut an’ Cheff in da boo…da boo…da smartz place.”
** (3) Amreth withdraws the gag, “Oh, one more thing, where’s this bed place?” **
** Grinkle points back where you found him. **
(1) Vadania: “You willin to help us kill the others?”
(19) Grinkle: “Me nub gud killin. Me bedder at foodin.”
** (29) Joryn narrows his eyes at the hobgoblin. “Books?” **
** (3) Amreth cocks a brow at the hobgoblin, “Down the hall where you came from?” **
(19) Grinkle: “Yub. Da boo…da boo…da smartz place.”
(19) Grinkle: “Um, near dere. Down dere.”
(3) Amreth: “Well, we know what we need to, generally. Numbers and locations of important kin of his,” he says, stuffing the gag back in his mouth while he’s speaking, “You stay quiet, and stay put, and I’ll personally treat you to roast boar once we’re done here and we come back to set you off on your own.”
(6) Fildin: “Yep, a layout would definately have helped us…”
** (29) Joryn raises a brow at the others. “D’yeh think these idiots would be able t’ learn wizardry?” **
** (3) Amreth tries to help the hobber up first, “I doubt it, but anything’s possible I guess. Stupidity isn’t universal among any of the intelligent critters. Might be whoever this Smut is, isn’t one of his kin.” **
** ( Olbernath grunts, “Be surprised if this one could tie his own bootlaces.” **
(6) Fildin: “Well, are we ready to go then? It appears we have a lot more to remove.”
** (29) Joryn growls. “Might be… we should be careful anyway” **
** (3) Amreth lookds to Vadania, “And do you think he can be trusted to comply? He’s more likely to be emboldened in proximity to his more capable kin, and set them on us.” **
** (1) Vadania nods “Would be a fun game for him to play” **
(1) Vadania: “Grinkle do you like games?”
** (3) Amreth removes the gag for the moment. **
** (20) Ruth peeks in from the door to add, “If one of them is smart enough to use wizardry, yet is not big cheez, Julla must be pretty capable as well.” **
** Grinkle nods. **
(19) Grinkle: “Yub.”
(3) Amreth: “How ’bout games that earn you a whole heap of shinies?”
(19) Grinkle: “Me nub inter…inter….lik shinies.”
(19) Grinkle: “Me lik fud.”
(3) Amreth: “Yeah, and how’s your kin feed ya? I bet they give you scraps, don’t they?”
(19) Grinkle: “Yub.” (frown)
(19) Grinkle: “Oooo who dere?”
** Grinkle looks this way and that. **
(19) Grinkle: “Sumwun tak in hed.”
** (3) Amreth waits for Vanadia to relay her idea to him. **
** (3) Amreth points to the hin druid, for his edification. **
** (1) Vadania smiles “Sorry Grinkle that was me. So would you be willing to help us get rid of the others?” **
(19) Grinkle: “Me wan fud. Me lik fud. Me hungry.”
(19) Grinkle: “Um okay.”
(19) Grinkle: “Me bedder foodin, nub killin.”
(1) Vadania: “Do you think you could get the others to come down here one at a time?”
** (3) Amreth chews his inner cheek a moment, then hides his dagger away, and drops his pack to the floor, picking his way through its contents, and dropping a bundle of salted pork and hardtack buscuits in his lap, “This’ll have to do for the moment.” **
** (3) Amreth stands to his feet, and wanders over to where the guttered hobgoblin lay to collect his other dagger he’d forgotten about. **
** (1) Vadania waits quietly for Grinkle’s response **
(19) Grinkle: “Hm. Some onyuns, an leebs an….hm.” (thinks)
(19) Grinkle: “Okay.”
** (1) Vadania digs into her Herb pouch and pulls out some Oregano, Asparagus Root, and Chives. “These may be good to cook with” **
(19) Grinkle: “Yub.” (takes the herbs)
(1) Vadania: “Ok now before you can do any cooking, We need you to get one of the others down here without telling him we are down here”
(19) Grinkle: “Um, okay. But…but…you wan big cheez too?”
(1) Vadania: “Not right away, just one of his cornies for now”
(19) Grinkle: “Okay.”
** Grinkle gets up shakily, then looks out the doorway. “Me go gets Lucky now.” **
** (3) Amreth retrieves his dagger, and walks back over to crouch next to Grinkle, “Look, mate. I don’t really care if you’re goblin kin, or if you’re a dwarf. I don’t want to kill you unless I have to. I’d personally rather you go on livin’ and eatin’, since you’re nub good at the killin’. You’ve not harmed me, so I won’t harm you. But if you cross us in this, that changes the rules. You can die with your kin, or you can go on living and stuffing your belly. Your choice.” **
(19) Grinkle: “Huh?”
** Grinkle looks dumbly at Amreth. “Lotz…lotz…lotza words.” **
(1) Vadania: “Ok Grinkle, after you gets Lucky you can cook all of some food”
(3) Amreth: “Never mind, Grinkle. Just get to it, and don’t cross us, will you?”
(19) Grinkle: “Um, okay.” (sets out the door shakily then walks up the wooden stairs)
(3) Amreth: “This’ll never work.”
** (1) Vadania looks around the room for a place that Hile can hide **
(3) Amreth: “Even if he’s meaning to do what we ask, he’s about to piss his pants.”
(6) Fildin: “Then why send him off?” Fildin just shakes his head slightly.
** (3) Amreth shrugs, “Don’t really feel like arguing, and it wasn’t my idea anyway. **
(1) Vadania: “Lets just setup the ambush”
(6) Fildin: “Spokes, rim, axles… spokes, rims axles…” he mutters a few times.
** (1) Vadania mews to hile points to a dark corner **
** (3) Amreth shrugs, and positions himself near the door, back against the wall, swords drawn, and whispers a quiet prayer to Tymora for heaping helping of sheer, dumb luck. **
** (6) Fildin moves back across the pit to the relative safety of the far side. **
** (1) Vadania quickly finds some place to hide and wait **
** (20) Ruth comes back to the room suppressing laughter, “I can hardly wait to find out what he will bring back.” **
** (6) Fildin tries to find something to hide behind over there, where he can still watch what happens. **
(20) Ruth: “Julla probably would not believe him if he told the truth anyway.”
** (3) Amreth frowns at her, “Hopefully not a whole host of his kin. I’d hate to kill ‘em. Far as hobgoblins go, he’s a right nice fellow. An you know, he was cleanin’. You could have yourself your first indentured servant, if he survives.” **

“Histories”, Part 5

Toward the end of the Thaecian Empire, the weak Adepts relied markedly on diabolic aid. This process was greatly accelerated by the decline of the Empire, as demonstrated by a new series of setbacks on its frontiers. Invasions from the Omai were becoming more frequent and more debilitating. Rather than ceding the territories outright to these invaders, the Emperors undertook a massive series of administrative reforms. Yet despite these efforts, the withdrawal of the Imperial armies spelt inexorable doom for the Empire.

In -240, the Empire was divided into two halves, the Northlands and the Imperium, each ruled by a co-emperor. This was a fairly desperate attempt to reorganize. It bought the Northlands at most an extra century or two of life. Of the two halves, the Imperium was clearly more powerful. Troops were steadily removed from the Northlands to the Imperium, where they were needed to quell internal dissension. Those mercenary troops that remained in the Northlands were usually underfunded, ill-equipped, and badly trained. Thus the pressing demand for more and more powerful magicka.

By this point the Adepts were almost totally dependent upon the power of extra-planar creatures, and were increasingly calling upon vile things for assistance. Fell and terrible fiends, eager to extend their influence on the plane of Sularin, and always desirous of corrupting mortals, were only too glad to fight for the Empire. The Dark Host of the Nine in particular heeded the Adepts’ summonings, and were infamous for their ability to twist the wording of pacts to their own infernal benefit.

It soon became unclear who was master of whom. Many Adepts were destroyed by things which were ostensibly their servants. Some Adepts turned to fiend-worship, and became demonolaters in order to gain powerful magicka. Other Adepts bargained with their own souls in dark and unsavory rituals. In at least one instance, an Adept was forced to call up fiends to rectify a botched summoning. The Adept Androntitus of Larium summoned an abyssal prince, but the infernal burst his confinement and wrought havoc. Desperate, Androntitus conjured three powerful devils to combat the menace. Between these unholy forces, Larium was utterly leveled in one horrific night, and Androntitus dragged wailing down to the pits.

Despite such disasters, the use of diabolic aid was undeniably effective, and sustained the Northlands unnaturally for many years after the Empire by rights should have fallen. Foul and terrible fiends shattered wildmen and Omai alike, and struck horror into all who beheld them.

Worship of the goddess of magicka which never took root in the Imperium soon found fertile ground in the Northlands despite the efforts of the Empire to eradicate what was considered a subversive movement. In fact, despite the persecutions, the faithful of Hurishta flourished in the Northlands. A century before the Invoked Devastation, the Northlands had declared official toleration of her worship (and also that of Oneiros, Almaril, Elantra and Tevesh). The Hurishtii, however, were not appeased. They viewed the continued summoning of fiends as but one more sign of the Empire’s irredeemable condition.

(to be continued)

Previous installments can be seen here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.

“The Endless Road”, Part 3

Scene Three

Twenty-five years later.  The lights come up. Ozzie has finally untangled the twisting history of his incarnation-death-rebirth cycle. He is mired in middle age, married with children and still unknown. He is prolific having written 12 novels, 20 plays, 46 short stories, countless poems, and as a result struggling author Goodenough is quite poor. Only one of his novels, one play and four short stories have been published. We find him hunched over his word processor late one night.

* * *

MARV
(enter from stage right) “Sorry to bother you so late and all Oz. But I got some news, bad news…”

WILL
(a beat)
“Don’t tell me. At the last minute they decided on ‘MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING’ instead of ‘NECESSARY LIES’- right?”

MARV
“You’re close. They’re going with ‘MACBETH’ followed by a rehash of a hit Broadway musical. Ditto for the screenplay. ROCKY XIX.”

WILL
(crestfallen)
“I put my best stuff into those manuscripts.”

MARV
“I know, I know. Here’s what Harry had to say. ‘It’s overwritten for one. Today’s theatergoer is after entertainment, not insight. Americans don’t wanna shell out money for anything resembling serious literary works. That’s for college lit courses.’ Hell, it’s not just Americans, Oz. Attention spans are shriveling everywhere. Anyway, just write something that’s fit for prime time or can be summed up on a bumper sticker and I’ll sell it.”

WILL
“What about originality, Marv? The Big Dream? Not to mention artistic integrity. Remember? I’ve got my own standards to measure up to. I don’t want to dumb myself down for the marketplace. Commercialism is the worst kind of tyranny. I should’ve been born in Russia fer chrissakes. Claimed dissidenthood. Then these same goddamn people would be clamoring to produce my plays, publish my books and make movies out of my stories.”

MARV
(a beat, then looks away)
“Come on. You’re talkin’ high falutin’ nonsense now. Worse, you sound cynical. You gotta make tradeoffs.”

(paces, then turns to face WILL)

“Think of it this way: in order to finance THE BIG DREAM you gotta make ONE BIG COMPROMISE. ‘Sell when you can; you’re not for all markets.’ It’s a valid point. The master said it.”

WILL
“Shit.”

(Fadeout)

(to be continued)

“The Endless Road”, Part 2

Scene Two

The present. The lights come up. WILL is seated on a couch watching television. He is 13. His name is Oswald Goodenough. He has a croaky pubescent voice and is so brainy he is considered to be a prime candidate for class nerd. Unfortunately, he has no recollection of his past life, death or rebirth. He has also forgotten the reason why he wanted to take another turn on the wheel of life. Like all teens he is profoundly disturbed, insecure and self-conscious. One last thing: his hormones are making him believe that females are the most awesome, powerful beings in the universe.

SALLY enters from behind. He sneaks a peek at the girl his friends call “Mega Boobs.” She smiles at him deliciously. It’s an innocent gesture. There is no seduction in it. But he is terrorized. He unglues his eyes from her and glues them back on the TV. Too late his pulse begins to quicken.

* * *

SALLY
“You really gonna go through with it, Ozzie?”

WILL
“Go through with what?”

SALLY
“Act in the play.”

WILL
“Yeah. I don’t care if the guys think it’s uncool. I don’t know, I just have this feeling about it.”

SALLY
“Me too. Romeo and Juliet. It’s like so romantic.” (sighs)

WILL
(a beat, then sneaks a glance at SALLY, carefully watching her bosom swell and then deflate)
“I’d rather do Hamlet. That’s what I’m voting for.”

He finishes speaking, gets up and goes to a desk before SALLY can respond. He plops himself in a chair, turns to his computer and presses a key. The MS Word splash screen pops up.

(Fadeout)

(to be continued)

“The Endless Road”, Part 1

Cast of characters

Will — ambitious, cantankerous and introspective
Siggy — inquiring, incredulous and more than a little concerned
Sally — a young girl of thirteen, with ideals to match
Marv — sleazy, unctuous, eager to succeed at the expense of his client
Joe — confused and just a bit clueless, until the end

* * *

Scene One

Heaven. The entities that inhabit this realm do not have the luxuries or restrictions of bodies. They exist as pure intelligence or spirit. For these reasons you can understand that it is very nearly impossible to describe their existence.

The problem is further compounded by the lack of time as we know it. They live in what can only be called an extremely subtle environment. One devoid of touch, texture, sight, sound, smell, taste and physical events to mark crucial turning points - or anything else for that matter. It gets boring. This is one reason that virtually every entity that passes from Earth to the Beyond chooses to be reincarnated. Now we can turn to eavesdrop on an important conversation that took place there, not long before the action of the play takes place.

SIGGY
“But all the suffering, the confusion, the stupidity, I…I am at a loss to understand why you of all people here would want to return to that God-forsaken world.”

WILL
“I have already explained it to you in unending detail. Again and again I have told you of my reasons, my passion really. They have made a mess out of my work. Three hundred years have gone by and one would think they would have sopped it all up by now. But no! The thick-headed bumbling fools go on as ever pretending, lying, cheating, betraying - even killing. Worse, the directors have messed up the stage directions. They think nothing of misinterpreting my work. As for the actors they have fouled up the characters and ruined the delicate balance between physical gesture and spoken line. And the audiences… What can one say, my good man.”

SIGGY
“Yes, I understand all that, old friend. All you say is true. But wasn’t it one of your characters that said, ‘Sweep on you fat and greasy citizens.’ I beg you not to apply to the council for rebirth. We would miss you. The world of man goes on as ever. Reform is an idle notion, Shakespeare.”

WILL
” Ah yes. Wasn’t it I who wrote: Oft expectation fails, and most oft there- Where most it promises. Or: When we are born, we cry that we are come- To this great stage of fools. And, O! That way madness lies; let me shun it. Enough! The rest is silence or should be. But they have made a literary god, a cult figure out of me. And it is wrong. I am the fountain of the endless cliches that spew from their mouths. Well, I am going to return and put a stop to it, Sigmund …”

(Fadeout)

(to be continued)

“Histories”, Part 4

Increasingly, the Emperors dispatched mercenary sorcerers to the frontier. By the reign of Perius (over 1500 years before the Invoked Devastation) sorcerers were freely welcomed into the emperor’s own palace; from then on no wizard feared plying the trade within Thae.

The assassination of Perius initiated a terrible period of turmoil within the Empire. At this time Thae’s borders were overextended, and for several centuries, its frontiers had slowly retreated before barbarian invaders. The economic strain of maintaining the sprawling Empire proved extremely burdensome. High taxes and a series of economic crises led to famines, labor strikes, and general internal unrest. A gnollish revolt broke out in the east which demanded sudden and massive redeployment of Imperial troops.

During this period, the succession of Emperors, never painless, became especially contentious; the Emperor was more-or-less made by the military. The most powerful amongst the Legion vied amongst themselves for their own chosen candidates. These internecine struggles occasionally approached civil war. At one time no less than five different Emperors were declared.

It was out of this period of crisis that the Imperial Adepts were born. The emperor Lineaus, fearing for his life, appointed his personal wizard Octavian as the first Adept. Within a decade twelve other wizards had been so named, and the next, another dozen. The Adepts were charged with upholding the rule of the Emperor. They swore solemn oaths of loyalty to him. They originally attended exclusively to the Emperor; their spells were to shield him from harm or spies. The deranged Emperor Corontitus insisted that no less than three dozen such protective spells were to be constantly in effect on his person; the Adepts wove spells day and night to fulfill this command. None of these spells seemed able to prevent his assassination. History records that Corontitus reigned for a scant eight months before being murdered.

Despite this inexplicable lapse, the Adepts soon came to serve not only the Emperor and his family, but Senators, generals, governors, and other important figures. Their ranks were swiftly expanded. Each new Emperor seemed eager to create positions for new Adepts. Harried Champions amongst the Legion soon considered the Adepts invaluable in their numerous wars. Although the common soldiers generally hated all sorcerers, they at least came to respect (and fear) the offensive capabilities of the Adepts.

When the period of turmoil was finally over, the Adepts were at the height of their influence—more than six hundred years after their inception. The Adepts had played a decisive role in stabilizing the Empire, and shoring up its borders against encroaching barbarian and monster tribes. At their apogee the Adepts were formidable wizards, with considerable sorcerous power and learning at their disposal. It is sometimes said that the Adepts had knowledge of over a thousand different spells.

It was during this time that the Adepts unleashed their most famed achievement, the Nine Colossi of the Limites. These were nine 50-foot tall bronze statues, formed in the image of Marnes, Thaecian protector and god of war. The Adepts were able to animate these monstrosities. It is said they bound a powerful spirit within each metal housing. The Colossi were placed at the limits of the empire, and were able to fight and defend their posts. In Arator (in what is now southern Calabria), the wildmen were terrified of the Colossus that towered over Demerian’s Wall.

The Adepts were originally accomplished abjurers and diviners. They used these and other magicka to protect the Emperor. Despite their triumph with the Colossi and lesser automata, the Adepts were not especially skilled enchanters. Such skill was never deemed really necessary; Thae’s numerous victories had brought a wealth of wondrous items into the Empire, as well as foreign wizards who could always be commanded to produce more such devices. Many Adepts were accomplished transmuters. In late antiquity, a large and esoteric body of writings was exclusively devoted to alteration magic.

The Adepts rapidly developed an abiding interest in the school of conjuration/summoning. Many of these spells entered into Thae by way of ancient Pyrrha. These spells came to dominate the Adepts’ repertoire, while the other schools of magic fell into disuse. Conjuration spells appealed to a distinctly Thaecian quality. The Adepts, like any Thaecian citizen, were accustomed to having the entire world at their beck and call. Using magicka to compel other beings to fight and toil for them seemed a natural and desirable development. The Adepts used their sorcerous might to impose their will on monsters, both terrestrial and extra-planar, and a tangled series of pacts and bindings were soon formed.

As the Empire neared its twilight, the Adepts became increasingly corrupted and ineffectual. Many neglected their oaths of loyalty to the Empire, and were more interested in promoting their own personal fortunes. And the Adepts’ Art, always derivative, suffered a steady decline; there were fewer and fewer magical innovations, and more dependence on the legacies of the past. Many Adepts devoted their limited abilities to composing pedantic commentaries and pursuing esoteric theories. As the Adepts’ personal abilities waned, they increasingly called on extra-planar powers to buttress their depleted magics. Increasingly, these powers originated from the lower planes, from fell denizens of Andurin such as the abomination Dagon, and from a dark and nameless evil known only to its hidden worshippers as the Faceless Lord.

(to be continued)